And the woman affectionately known as “Max the Egg Lady” won’t be inviting customers in with a warm welcome and a hot cup
of Joe.

Maxine Smith, who owned and operated one of last remaining urban farms in the Kalamazoo area, died of congestive heart failure
March 13 at Bronson Methodist Hospital. She was 91.

“She was one of a kind, a colorful unique person who was a very strong business woman,” said Karen Slager-Wheat, a longtime
friend.

Slager-Wheat, a pastor at Schoolcraft United Methodist Church, performed marriage ceremonies for both of Smith’s children. When
Slager-Wheat’s mother died, she said, Smith was very supportive.

“She would have done anything for anybody,” Slager-Wheat said. “Her customers were not just customers. They became her friends.”

She said she knew Smith for more than 35 years, and believed her farm had the best eggs in town.

Others agreed, saying it wasn’t just her
benevolent demeanor that kept customers coming back. Smith brought a
level of dedication to her work that was next to impossible to match,
they said, and it showed in the products she produced.

Her daughter, Gwen Barrow, said her
mother never missed an egg route; not even in 1982 when she had a heart
attack while delivering eggs.

She said her mother had more than 300
customers, and the farm produced 800 to 900 eggs a day. She only
remembers one time where someone complained about getting a bad egg.
Her mother didn’t even ask to see the defective egg. She just gave the
customer a fresh dozen, Barrow said.

Smith’s tireless work ethic and forthrightness colored everything she did, friends and family said. When growing up, Barrow
said, all the products in their home were made in America and every bit of food was made from scratch.

To the point

Smith was not a woman who minced words, and people couldn’t help but love her for that.

“She had no pretense. She didn’t put on
airs,” Patt Brotebeck said. “You always knew what came out her mouth
was honest. ... She didn’t try to impress anyone in one way or another.
She just was. She was the ultimate teacher of life, and I don’t think
she even knew.”

But it wasn’t just people who loved
her. Everyone said Smith loved her chickens, or her “ladies” as she
called them, and the chickens would only settle for her. Slager-Wheat
said if anyone else wanted to come into the coop, they had to wear her
hat or something else that would trick the chickens into thinking it
was Smith.

Although she was a diminutive woman, her daughter said, she was a fighter and had a feisty air about her. Just ask Portage
city officials.

A fierce advocate of thefamily farm, Smith battled city
officials several times in her life, before and after her husband,
Harold, died of cancer in 1981.

Whenever the city wanted to do
something she didn’t agree with — such as expand Angling Road, buy her
farm, add street lights or make changes to the sewer system — she would
create a petition, her daughter said.

“Those neighbors would fill those petitions,” Barrow said. “Mom had good neighbors.”

Barrow said she and her family probably
would have left the farm, where they also raised Angus beef cattle and
grew vegetables, if it wasn’t for her mother’s refusal to go down
without a fight. Most of the time, friends and family said, she won the
battles she took on, even those with the city.

Her opinions — whether on politics or her beloved Detroit Tigers — resonated with all those who knew her, friends said.

“She always told it like it was or like she saw it,” Doug Sipsma said. “I rarely disagreed with her.”

Quick to help

Smith’s friends and family agreed that,
although she didn’t hand out much praise, those she was close to always
felt cared for. She was a vivacious and good humored woman, they said,
who enjoyed riding her tractor and playing the card game Skippo.

“She was so alive all the time,” Sipsma said. “She was so connected. She would look at you, and you would know you were the
top priority at that time.”

Smith had a generous nature and rarely let those in need stay that way for long, friends and family said.

She was involved in charitable efforts to
support Cystic Fibrosis and was a den mother for the Cub Scouts. She
also helped others on a grass-roots level, offering unsellable eggs and
vegetables to the less fortunate and keeping her prices at a level she
thought fair even when supermarket prices soared.

“She thought of others more than
herself,” Louise Mercer said. “I can hardly say enough about her. She
is just one in a million.”